


Day 11: The Second Lost Light

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2018 [11]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Even as a deep-cover mole in the most dangerous sub-faction of the Decepticons, there are lines that Dominus will not cross. This is one of them.





	Day 11: The Second Lost Light

“Rewind, **run**!” the pinned mech yelled, forcing himself up sharply enough he halfway managed to throw Kaon off. Vos stepped forward to help, but froze when he saw something move in his peripheral vision. Black and white plating, a flash of blue visor and red biolights and a blip of red from the side of his helm. He jerked halfway around, but stopped himself before giving chase, looking to Tarn in a silent question.

“Go.” Tarn waved his hand dismissively. “This one’s Kaon’s.”

Vos nodded, and set off after the minibot at a run. Rewind screeched in terror, and he forced himself to _think_ through the haze of Nuke in his processor amplifying the base instincts he’d spent a lifetime suppressing. He had to play this just right or they’d both die.

Rewind ran, and Vos chased him, until they were far enough away from the DJD that his hastily concocted plan had at least a chance of working. There was still a hefty possibility that they’d be found out, but at least... at least he would’ve tried. He fired off a hook, catching it around Rewind’s chassis without puncturing anything, and tried to project _comfort safety assurance_ through his field as he reeled the little dataslug in. Rewind thrashed, clawing at his plating, vocaliser glitching in binary shrieks as he fought to free himself.

Vos held him tight, pulling him in close as he looked around. They seemed to be on a residential level of the ship, and after a few tries he found a door which wasn’t locked. The habsuite beyond was dusty from disuse, perfect for his rapidly solidifying plan. “This will hurt.” he warned, and Rewind’s optics went wide for a split-nano-klik before a blow to the helm knocked him offline. It was easy enough to tie him up once he went limp, and he fit easily in the room’s closet. Setting a lock on the door was simple enough, and when it shut behind him Vos in-vented deeply.

Prowl would be _incandescently_ angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d committed atrocity after atrocity to keep his cover in the DJD, but this was the line he refused to cross. Murdering Rewind, _his_ Rewind? No, he’d sooner die himself. Vos sat down against the wall, pulled out a gun, and sent a command he’d not sent in several million meta-cycles. His plating shifted, parting down the middle, and Dominus Ambus gasped as cold air hit his frame. He extricated himself, leaving a command for his outer shell to close behind him, and took up a position across the hall. Aside from having to knock out Rewind, this was the part of his plan that he liked least.

He shuttered his optics, and commanded his armour to open. He’d had to expose his irreducible form exactly once, since donning his grey and gold armour, and to set pede on the floor again at such a level of vulnerability made him just as uncomfortable now as it had then. He gritted his denta though, and reached into his subspace for the small, high-powered blaster Prowl had given him at the start of his mission. A last resort weapon, intended for him to use should he be discovered and need to prevent the DJD from learning what he knew. He placed it in the hand of his first armour, lifted the arm with some effort, and pulled the trigger.

On the floor, a molten-edged hole appeared in Vos’s chest. Dominus hurried over, hefted the gun arm of his outer shell, and shot the helm clean off his own armour. It collapsed, and he could hear the DJD approaching now, laughing and whooping like the savages they were. It left a bitter taste on his glossa, knowing how long he’d had to lower himself to their level. He shook his helm, and hurried over to the room where he’d left Rewind. The door locked behind him, but he still picked his way over to the closet and sealed himself in there. They wouldn’t be safe until the DJD left, and even then... he could only hope that the emergency transmitter in his original armour would work without a helm on, because otherwise they would surely starve here.

Shuttering his optics, he sat gingerly next to Rewind and prepared himself for a long wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact! The G9 mission in Last Stand of the Wreckers was enacted on Dominus's intel, so he was still alive and actively sending reports as recently as 5 Earth years before the Lost Light launched.


End file.
